


Pattern of Behavior

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Coercion, Community: salt_burn_porn, Consent Issues, Dirty Talk, Don't copy to another site, Explicit Language, Hand Jobs, Legal issues, M/M, Oral Sex, infidelity themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 08:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: “You want to roll the dice, take this to trial? Fine by me. I’ll see you bright and early on Monday morning. You can see yourself out.”Padalecki closes his eyes and shakes his head again. “I can’t.”“What was that?”“I said, I can’t.”





	Pattern of Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the recent round of [Salt, Burn, Porn](https://salt-burn-porn.livejournal.com/) for the prompt of _roll the dice._ Many, many thanks to [dugindeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/dugindeep) for the late and very thorough beta that saved this from just being run of the mill lawyer!porn :P

“Your honor—”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Padalecki, but I’m denying your motion. If there’s nothing else, we’ll proceed to trial. Opening arguments will be Monday morning, nine a.m.”

The crack of the judge’s gavel is swift and decisive, and Jensen Ackles smiles to himself as he packs up his files. Opposite him, the counsel for the defendant is whispering frantically to his client with cutting hand gestures punctuating what he’s saying. No doubt telling his client how screwed he is.

When he leaves the courtroom, Jared Padalecki is still arguing with his client. The man in handcuffs appears enraged as the court officers haul him away through the side door—Jensen can’t wait to get that ugly face in front of a jury—but Padalecki glances over as Jensen is about to slip out of the courtroom. He notes the surrender in the defense attorney’s expression, an offer in those achingly familiar hazel eyes, and Jensen’s smile gets even bigger.

His afternoon just got a whole lot more interesting.

Before leaving the courthouse, Jensen meets with one of the Deputy District Attorneys to check on the status of her grand jury. When that’s finished, he has his driver take him to one of the local divisions where the newly-appointed Captain has just brought in a suspect he thinks is good for at least two recent homicides and, as the new Executive ADA for Dallas County, Jensen wants to ensure everything is done by the book.

Jensen grabs a bite to eat on his way back to the office. Though the town car and driver are two of the many perks included with his recent promotion, he thought it would also mean a lot of fancy lunches at swanky restaurants, bumping elbows with the more politically-minded prosecutors and who’s who of the city. More often than not, however, he visits food trucks and street vendors for his meals, maybe the pub down the block from the judicial offices when his schedule allows a full break. He’s not complaining—he finally has the job he’s been working towards for years, and the benefits outweigh the sacrifices he made to get here.

Most days, anyway.

Walking into his office with a handful of messages, Jensen drops his briefcase and gets to work. He’s halfway through a mercifully short stack of depositions when there’s a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he calls, more than willing to take a break.

The door opens and in walks Jared Padalecki. He’s wearing the same charcoal gray suit he’d appeared in that morning, but his blue tie is slightly askew and his hair is mussed as if he’s been running his fingers through it.

“Padalecki. What an unexpected surprise.”

The defense attorney doesn’t flinch at the sarcasm in Jensen’s tone. He sets his briefcase down on the rug. “Your assistant said you had some time this afternoon.”

“For you?” Jensen consumes Padalecki with his gaze. “I can make time. I assume this is about Brandon Kovacic?”

“I came to see if you’d be willing to offer a plea bargain.”

“Seriously?” He lets the incredulity show on his face. “Kovacic is facing multiple counts of aggravated assault, two counts of rape, and, the cherry on top, resisting arrest and the attempted assault of a police officer. Did I miss anything?”

Padalecki shakes his head. It’s only been a couple of months since Jensen last faced off against this particular defense attorney, and his blood pumps harder when Padalecki looks at him through those long, brown eyelashes. No one has ever affected Jensen the way Padalecki does; he thought with his promotion that he’d see less and less of the man, but so far, that hasn’t been the case.

It’s hard for Jensen to put the past behind him when it keeps barging into his office like this.

“I thought we could work something out,” Padalecki clarifies. “Avoid a trial, spare your witnesses from having to testify in open court.”

Jensen leans back in his chair. “Alright. Convince me.” He hears a sharp inhale and sees Padalecki’s cheeks flush pink.

“Jensen—”

Instead of responding to the entreaty in his voice, Jensen stands and casually strolls over to the door, checking the hallway before closing it and flipping the lock.

“Why should I entertain a deal at this point?” He circles Padalecki on his way back to the desk, perching on the edge. “If you remember, I offered your client a lesser charge after he was arraigned.”

“I couldn’t get him to take it.”

Jensen scoffs. They both know where this is going, but the anticipation is like a drug hitting Jensen’s bloodstream. His body remembers. He’s forced to curl his hands into the edge of the desk, nails digging into the mahogany, so he won’t feel the way his fingers ache to reach out. 

“You’ve exhausted all of your pre-trial motions. I’d be more than happy to take this to a jury and add it to my win column. Hailed by the press, congratulated by my boss. Cutting a deal doesn’t seem to be in my best interests.”

“Still only thinking about yourself? Why am I not surprised?” Padalecki crosses his arms, as if his stance could intimidate Jensen. “Fine, I can take this to trial and tear your witnesses apart one by one. Won’t look too good for the Dallas’ new Executive ADA to take a hit like that. Right, Jensen?”

“ _Counselor_ ,” he hisses. He already let Padalecki slip once. The titles keep distance between them, turning this into a game Jensen can win. He turns and steps around his desk, settling himself in his chair before looking up. “You want to roll the dice, take this to trial? Fine by me. I’ll see you bright and early on Monday morning. You can see yourself out.”

Padalecki closes his eyes and shakes his head again. “I can’t.”

“What was that?”

“I said, I can’t.”

“Afraid to face me in court?” Jensen asks, a hint of bite in his words. “You could just recuse yourself. Personal conflict.”

“So could you.” Padalecki says it without conviction, and Jensen feels his heart slam against the inside of his chest as the anger rises. “If the judge knew about us—”

“Not a chance,” Jensen cuts in, attempting to sound dispassionate and detached. “You want a deal? It’s like I told you before… _convince me_.”

Padalecki slowly approaches the desk, his chin down to hide his eyes as he walks around it. Jensen watches, spinning his chair so Jared can walk right up to him, their knees touching. Spreading his legs, Jensen tries to coax Padalecki forward.

“Come on, Counselor. Don’t be shy.” He unzips his slacks, teasing himself through the fabric. Ever since seeing Padalecki in court this morning, the low thrum of arousal has kept him on edge and, as a result, Jensen’s dick has been hard since Padalecki stepped into his office. “You don’t have to pretend. I remember how far you’d go to get your clients _off_.”

Padalecki flinches like he’s been stung, dropping to his knees with a pained nosie that comes from deep within his chest. Hearing it makes Jensen want to devour him all the more.

With the defense attorney between his legs, Jensen pulls his cock out and strokes it, eyes drawn to the way Padalecki’s mouth drops open.

“I know what cock-hungry looks like on that pretty face, remember?” Jensen taunts. He saw it a hundred times, in every possible scenario. He knew what Padalecki looked like when he was turned on, when he craved a good dicking, when he wanted someone to fuck him out of his own mind. Like any good prosecutor, Jensen has no qualms using that knowledge against him.

He also knows what Padalecki looked like when he fell asleep in the middle of rereading case files or when he just wanted someone to hold him throughout the night. That kind of knowledge remains under lock and key at the back of Jensen’s mind.

Padalecki looks at Jensen’s cock then lifts his gaze to Jensen’s lips. He reaches out, hesitant fingers twisting in Jensen’s tie to pull him closer. 

Jensen reels back before their lips touch. “Did I say I wanted you to kiss me?” He grabs Padalecki by the back of the neck, nails digging into tender flesh and eliciting a moan. Denied, Padalecki’s hands move to Jensen’s thighs, squeezing firm muscle as he pushes in, dropping his head into the pressure at his neck. “Your mouth belongs somewhere else, Counselor.”

The only word Jensen can find to describe the way Padalecki’s lips feel around him is _exquisite_. His mouth is warm and wet, and he sucks the head of Jensen’s cock as if he’s being filmed, putting on a show with pink, pursed lips and an eager tongue. Jensen hardly needs to encourage him. The moment he thinks about demanding more, gripping Padalecki’s scalp and pulling his hair to get his message across, Padalecki is already taking him deeper, willingly bruising the back of his own throat when he lets Jensen thrust up into him.

Nothing in the world comes close to this kind of pleasure. Jensen used to think that love and emotion were pinnacle achievements, but he knows better these days. Whenever he slips, tripped up by emotion or affection, he shoves the feelings down ruthlessly, battering them until there’s nothing left beyond physical sensations and impulses.

Love is for the weak, and Jensen is anything but. Weakness would be stroking Padalecki’s hair away from his face and pushing it behind his ear, whispering praise for his clever tongue because hearing it from Jensen’s lips excites him. Weakness would be allowing anything but greed and hunger to show in his gaze when Padalecki’s eyes turn up and he pleads, wordlessly, for more.

“If your firm could see you right now, Counselor, you could make partner on your cocksucking skills alone.” Jensen holds Padalecki’s head in place and lifts his hips out of the chair, listening to him breathe harshly through his nose while saliva gathers sticky and warm in his throat. “Bet the senior partners would like that. Most of them are married—isn’t that your type?” he adds, feeling particularly vicious and wanting Padalecki to hurt the same way he’s been hurting for nearly a year and a half.

Padalecki whimpers and, for a split second, Jensen eases his grip. Something cold stabs through his brittle heart and Jensen refuses to call it _regret_. If Padalecki wants to pull away, now is his chance. Yet he stays in place and forces himself to sink lower onto Jensen’s lap, nearly to the point where Jensen’s cock is gagging him, and anger surges once more to burn out the cold.

Jensen wants it dirty, drawn out and suffocating. Padalecki grunts while he attempts to keep up with the roll of Jensen’s hips against his face, fucking his mouth like he’s trying to make it as filthy and impersonal as possible. Padalecki holds, though, his tongue following the curve of Jensen’s veins, circling the crown as if he imagines Jensen would appreciate the tease.

“You defend scumbags and cheaters. No surprise you’d pick up a thing or two,” Jensen pants, rage on the tip of his tongue. His words are barbs, each one marked as evidence in their ongoing battle. “Then you come in here, begging for a deal. You knew what would happen, Counselor, but I think you like it. You’d rather have this than nothing, as if you’re trying to make up for what you did to me.”

Both of his hands are in Padalecki’s hair now, twisting and pulling to control the pace and the depth, using the man’s mouth for his own pleasure. There’s a small part of Jensen that wants his opponent to put up a fight, to show anything beyond willing submission, because then he would know he wasn’t alone in his madness. Instead, Padalecki’s mouth is wide open and perfectly fuckable, taking Jensen’s cock like it’s meant to be there.

“Next time I won’t have you on your knees,” Jensen swears on the pale skin at the back of Jared’s neck. He knows no holier place. “You’ll be bent over my desk and I’ll be able to hear you moaning my name when I fuck you.”

Padalecki breathes hard through his nose, and the suction doubles around Jensen’s cock. It’s glorious until Padalecki finds just the right spot and then it’s fucking _incandescent_. Jensen sacrifices whatever stamina he has left not to call out the man’s name, but it doesn’t matter. He couldn’t hold out even if he wanted to, and he fucks his come straight down Padalecki’s throat without bothering to pull away. Sure, that sharp, dimpled face would look especially pretty covered in Jensen’s semen, but there’s something obscene about knowing Padalecki will be able to taste him for the rest of the day.

Fucked out and sated, Jensen collapses back into his chair, his hands suddenly empty. When he opens his eyes, Padalecki is already on his feet and hastily making his way out of the office on wobbly knees, his briefcase held in shaking hands.

Jensen sees red. The muscles in his thighs feel thick and heavy, and it takes him an extra few seconds to pull up his pants, rebuttoning as he follows Padalecki out of the office and down the hall towards the only men’s room on the floor.

“You don’t get to run away,” he growls, pushing his way into the restroom. 

“Jensen—”

“Quiet!” He can’t hear anything besides the out-of-sync rhythm of their breathing and their shoes squeaking on the waxed floors. Jensen prays that the restroom is empty, though he doesn’t think he could stop even if they had an audience. He spares a few seconds to check under the stalls before he rounds on Padalecki and traps him against the marble counter. “You don’t get to pretend like you’re not hot for it.”

Jensen’s theory proves to be correct when he reaches around Padalecki’s body and finds him hard in his slacks. One stroke and the man is grinding back into the cradle of Jensen’s hips. With sure fingers, he gets Padalecki’s belt and pants undone until he has just enough space to work his hand inside, past the warm fabric of his underwear. Sweaty palm meets hot flesh, and Jensen wants to sing at just how long and thick his cock is. No one else he’s hooked up with lately has ever measured up, literally.

His mouth is watering, synapses in his brain firing in a cascade that’s telling him to slow things down, ease his grip. Then he meets Padalecki’s gaze in the mirror, their faces flush and eyes frenzied, and he knows there’s no way to stop. No chance of backing down or starting over with a level head. He presses himself against Padalecki’s spine, teeth set against the back of his neck.

“You’ll be back,” he hisses, jacking Padalecki’s cock at a merciless pace. Gratified to feel the man fucking into his fist, both hands locked white-knuckled around the edge of the counter.

That’s when Padalecki finds his voice again. “And you’ll be there, unable to turn me away.”

Jensen sinks his teeth into that pale skin where neck meets shoulder, intent on leaving his mark in any way he can. If his mouth is occupied, there’s no way he’ll slip and tell Padalecki that he’s right, that Jensen hasn’t been able to turn him away even once since they fell into ruin. Beneath his hands and lips, Jensen can feel Padalecki coming apart, spurts of milky white spilling on the flecked marble. Jensen holds him throughout, swearing to himself that it’s to prevent the man from making another break for it. He willfully ignores the fact that he doesn’t want to let go, afraid that if he does, it will be for the last time.

He makes the mistake of opening his mouth, exposing himself in a split-second.

“ _Jared_.”

Jensen feels him shudder, one last drop of come squeezed out by Jensen’s coaxing hand. Jared sags against him, each taking a deep breath at the same time. There’s one peaceful moment that feels so familiar, coming down together from a dizzying high, before reality crushes them once more.

“Someday, you’ll stop punishing me for my mistake,” Jared whispers. Jensen can feel the low rumble from Jared’s chest where his arms cross. He drops them as if he’s been burned by the statement, backing away and refusing to meet Jared’s eyes even in the mirror. “And someday, maybe you’ll finally realize there’s more to life than your job.”

Jensen ignores the old, stinging argument. He could throw it back in Jared’s face, the fact that he’d wanted this job since he graduated from law school, and how could anything be more important than that? Jensen already knew the answer, because while his eyes were focused on the next step, a possible political future, Jared was looking elsewhere.

He sighs, shakes himself out of the bitter memories. “I’ll drop everything but the rape charges and assaulting a police officer. Fifteen years instead of twenty-five, take it or leave it.”

Jared keeps going, his voice soft and intimate. “Someday, you’ll actually have to talk to me.”

Jensen straightens his suit jacket and tie, using his fingers to comb his hair back into place, and pretends he doesn’t notice the way Jared is watching him, pants still undone and softening cock resting against his thigh.

“I’ll send the papers to your office, Counselor,” Jensen says, desperate to impose some distance between them. “Get them back to me by end of day tomorrow or the deal’s off the table.”

He’s about to walk out of the restroom, guard up and fuck-off attitude firmly in place, when, out of the corner of his eye, he catches Jared’s hand reaching for him. With no time to think his way out of reacting, Jensen allows himself to be caught and pulled towards Jared’s chest. Whether through memory written into their muscles or sheer luck, their mouths align. Still, Jensen refuses to be gentled. The kiss is rough and biting; he wants to leave a reminder there on Jared’s lips, a scar to match the one on Jensen’s heart.

It’s over before either one of them can sink too far into the feeling, before either man can make a move that unravels the last fifteen months of animosity. Without another word, Jensen spins on his heel and marches out of the men’s room, locking himself in his office and throwing himself into his work.

Hours later, long after the sun has set, Jensen finally leaves the office. He drags himself to the nearest bar and drowns himself in an expensive bottle of scotch. The other patrons, mostly prosecutors, clerks, and assistants from the judicial office, give him a wide berth.

The next morning, with a hangover that would kill a lesser man, Jensen tries to focus on another of his pending cases. He’s about to call it quits and ask his driver to take him somewhere greasy for lunch, when one of his usual messengers shows up with a familiar packet of files.

Padalecki’s precious deal. Signed by client and attorney, ready to be presented to a judge.

A single sheet of paper slips out from between the pages, blank except for a few words scribbled in Padalecki’s familiar handwriting.

_****_

_**Someday, you’ll forgive me.** _

_  
_

Jensen crumples the paper in his fist, but instead of throwing it away, he drops it into the bottom drawer of his desk and grabs his phone. Screw the greasy lunch, he needs another drink. It doesn’t matter that there’s not enough alcohol in the world to burn away the hope of _someday_ , Jensen has to try.

Because someday, Jared might realize that Jensen hasn’t forgiven himself for putting his career ahead of his heart. Jared will see that while he might have lit the match, Jensen built the pyre.

There will be no deal to cut, no plea bargain, to erase what Jensen’s done. He’s guilty as sin and his trial’s just begun.

 

FIN.


End file.
